Do NPCs Dream of Electric Sheep?
by Nolaquen265
Summary: A brief evening of relaxation brings an odd moment to Kirito's attention. Aincrad is a wide, open world, and even Akihiko Kayaba may not know all of its secrets...or what its future could hold.
1. Charity

Disclaimer: I don't own Sword Art Online.

XxXxX

 _6:23 p.m., August 17, 2024, Floor 50: Algade_

Even a solo player needed a little human contact now and then.

For Kirito, who didn't often seek out much in the way of actual interaction, just taking a few minutes to watch other players mill about and chat in the marketplace was enough to take the edge off a Beater's isolation. So, for the past couple of weeks, he'd been stopping at a little café on Algade's main thoroughfare at the end of his day of grinding and clearing on higher floors. Once seated at a small outdoor table, he'd order a cool drink from the polite, yet bland NPC waitress. Kirito would then spend the next fifteen or twenty minutes nursing his glass while contentedly watching his fellow SAO swordsmen return to the city in the golden light of the setting sun.

Although Kirito's mood at the time would tint these short breaks with a range of emotions from peaceful curiosity to some mild longing for company, the one constant in his observations was an enduring wonder at the way that people could continue to adapt and build _lives_ in this death game. Everywhere he looked, he saw young players talking, laughing, bartering for goods, and unwinding from a day of _activity_ —be it grinding, crafting, or even just exploring the rich detail of this beautiful, perilous world. In some ways, it wasn't so far removed from a Tokyo district at the end of a workday…if you set aside the fantasy aesthetic and medieval weapons at everyone's sides.

Kirito wondered, more often than not, if this was something that Akihiko Kayaba, in his godhood complex and world-building power-trip, had intended to cultivate, or if it was just an irrepressible trait of human nature: to set down roots, build a community, and flourish even in the face of adversity.

Or, perhaps, especially in those circumstances.

Musing thus, Kirito sipped at his drink, smacking his lips slightly at the minty tang. Letting his eyelids fall half-shut, the young swordsman leaned back in his chair and let the hustle and bustle wash over him, mingled with the fading daylight.

"Potions and salves for sale! It's dangerous to go unprepared!" hawked an NPC just across the street. It was a canned, oft repeated script which the boy had nearly tuned out at this point; it was like the steady, reliable foundation of an audial castle, upon which the voices and exclamations of human players built and covered the city like a shifting fog.

Elsewhere, Kirito could hear the clanking of heavy armor, the _clod-clod_ of leather boots on the cobblestone road, and a symphony of voices hitting a score of varying notes and pitches. All in all, a typical evening in Aincrad.

It was so strange that all of this had somehow grown out of a setting where, at a similar place and time fifty floors below, a mad genius had given 10,000 players the scare of their lives nearly two years ago.

"…so strange," Kirito repeated aloud to himself before sighing under his breath.

"Potions and salves for sale! It's dangerous to…"

A moment passed. Then Kirito's brow burrowed lightly on instinct, as though the music of the city had missed a beat and his mind had tripped on that blank space.

When players interrupted an NPC mid-speech, the computer-generated character would stop abruptly and give its full attention to the human in its field of focus. After giving or receiving some expected prompt, the program would run through a set dialogue tree with the player.

Kirito had never heard a stock character's speech trail off that way before, outside of a quest.

The swordsman opened his eyes and looked across the street.

The NPC shopkeeper, which looked as nondescript as expected beyond "male, youngish, short hair, expressionless," was now standing quietly and looking to its right, towards Algade's south entrance gate. Blinking, Kirito followed its line of sight.

In these periods of people-watching, Kirito had come to recognize a few regulars on the street. There was the mid-level KoB contingent, heading to an Irish-themed pub down the way, right on time; a little further down, a gangly info broker, staking his usual corner, was negotiating with a stolid looking pair dressed in brown and forest green cloaks; across from them, a human craftsman was showing off her elegant and expensive goods to a small crowd of interested players. Nothing out of the ordinary there.

Glancing back at the NPC to see if the system had somehow hit a bit of lag—there was a first time for everything—Kirito stilled before he slowly leaned forward, setting all four chair legs down with a muted _thunk_.

…perhaps "expressionless" wasn't so accurate a description after all?

It was a small thing, really, which the young swordsman wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been looking for something out of the ordinary. But the NPC's head was slightly tilted, eyes widened and lips parted ever so minutely.

Setting down his glass, Kirito once again turned his head, searching for the NPC's focus.

"…hm."

Another party, somewhat familiar now after these last few weeks, was making its way down the street, aimed at the city's heart.

It was a party of five, apparently well-balanced among weapon classes; there was a hulking man dressed in chain mail with a great sword on his back, two younger players (who might have been twins) armed with shields and short swords, a taller man carrying a spear in the crook of one arm, and a girl with a sheathed dagger at her waist. The group was talking energetically, which fit with Kirito's vague recollections of their end-of-the-day trek into town. He seemed to recall overhearing frequent jokes from the twins, and that the girl had a pretty laugh…

"…huh."

Swinging his gaze back and forth several times just to be sure, the young swordsman found himself at the most likely conclusion: the NPC was watching the approaching party.

Intrigued, Kirito leaned forward and placed his chin on his fist, eyes flicking down and across the street.

As the player party drew level with the café and the shop, the NPC abruptly picked up a potion and held it out in front of him.

"For you, miss. It's dangerous to go unprepared!"

The group came to a scattered stop after several more steps, leaving Kirito with a clear view. At the party's rear, the female player stared at the shopkeeper in surprise for a moment before accepting the potion on autopilot.

"Um…thanks?" the girl said, half-questioningly as Kirito strained his ears to catch her response. The player glanced above the NPC's head, as though looking for the gold exclamation mark which identified a quest-giver. When several seconds passed without the appearance of such a mark, or further dialogue from the shopkeeper, the girl placed the potion in her inventory and hesitantly turned away. "Ah…thanks again!"

The NPC gave its typical, shallow smile and waved goodbye.

The party continued on its way. Kirito could just catch one player remarking, "Weird. Must have been a one-off event…?" The girl scratched her cheek in confusion and glanced over her shoulder once before they passed by another cluster of players and were soon lost to view.

Kirito's attention shifted back to the shopkeeper, who was only just now lowering its hand. As its smile faded into the faintly placid look which most NPCs shared when they weren't interacting with human players, Kirito thought he caught a trace of…something else around its eyes.

Was that…admiration? Or even…?

The young swordsman tapped his finger repeatedly, and continued to watch the NPC even as the evening's routine reasserted itself.

"Potions and salves for sale! It's dangerous to go unprepared!"

"…huh."

XxXxX

A/N: Because a world like Aincrad is full of mystery and imagination…and untapped possibilities.


	2. Familiarity

Disclaimer: I don't own Sword Art Online.

XxXxX

 _7:07 a.m., September 2, 2024, Floor 48: Lindarth_

Lisbeth stifled a yawn as she closed the shop door behind her. Overheard, the soft light of Aincrad's post-dawn hours was slowly gaining in strength, gradually shifting from a wan illumination to a warm glow. This steady transition, revealing the world's beauty piece by piece, nearly made the young smith's routine supply run a pleasant chore on most days.

"..freaking Army brats banging up second-rate swords…expecting my repairs at their beck and call, all hours of the day…eating up my iron reserves with dumb, bulk orders…no consideration for my craft…"

Most days.

"…stupid Kibaou…stupid cactus-head…stupid, stupid, stupid…"

Still, by the time Lisbeth entered the market, the young smith had vented most of her remaining frustrations and was starting to regain some of her sunnier disposition. A light breakfast purchased from a rolling cart went a long way to soothing her drowsy grumblings, and Lisbeth soon found herself enjoying a more contented stroll through the streets.

At this hour, the more ambitious and dedicated Clearers were already exiting inns and player houses, and now roamed the city settling the logistics for their expeditions that day. Lisbeth exchanged several brief greetings with a few regular customers whom she recognized, but mostly she watched quietly with a small smile as hardened players settled into their routines. Good-natured ribbing and calls for parties mingled in the early morning air as the young smith passed by stall after stall of NPC merchants and shopkeepers, many of which had found human patrons looking for new gear or fresh food.

"17 col for a Boar-Meat Sandwich?" one player lamented, eying a vendor menu dubiously, "I could pay 13 for this on Floor 56!" His fellow adventurer laughed, and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "The market solves, buddy. Supply and demand, transport and overhead…"

"Looking for Group for a small raid on a Field Boss on Floor 42!" another, lower-leveled swordsman called from atop an upturned crate. "Need a hand leveling up! A Tank would be great!"

Somewhere down the way, Lisbeth caught a glimpse of a few younger children browsing under the watchful eye of their older guardians. "Check out this wooden horse, Daisuke! It's so lifelike!" one of them exclaimed, pointing excitedly at a collection of ornamental wares. "Can we buy it, Mr. Miyagi?" The silver-haired gentleman (a rare sight in Aincrad) standing behind the girl chuckled as he opened up an interface to make the purchase.

Lisbeth's pace slackened as she passed by the group, her brow furrowing slightly as she sighed.

 _For kids to be trapped in here like us…I can't imagine what it's like for those whose parents aren't here with them._

But Lisbeth was nothing if not a secret optimist. A few moments of consideration soon smoothed her forehead and brought a small perk back to the corners of her lips. _At least these little ones seem to be doing alright._

With that thought, the young smith continued on in her daily morning quest, and another minute's walk found her before a merchant's stand set up in front of a small warehouse. As she rang a silver bell, Lisbeth hummed quietly to herself as she rocked back and forth on her heels.

"Good morning, miss!" came a quick reply as an older NPC with wild hair and a bristly beard emerged from the structure. "How can I help you today?"

"Hello, Kaito!" Lisbeth replied brightly. "It's good to see you this morning!"

Most NPC vendors weren't given names by the system, and only a green cursor above their heads provided them with any distinctive identification. "Kaito" was no exception, but however flat-line his personality might be, this particular NPC's appearance reminded Lisbeth of one of her father's friends—a grizzled old veteran who would visit from time to time when she was a child and regale her with tales of fishing on the high seas. As a result, Lisbeth had quickly taken to calling her computer-generated metal-supplier by the same name. She couldn't say why exactly, but it sometimes helped to alleviate a longing for home which would strike on especially bad days.

On top of that, having a routine interaction with someone not weighed down by the burden of living in this Death Game was its own kind of relief…even if that someone wasn't really a _someone_ at all.

As Kaito stood patiently waiting for Lisbeth to respond, the girl shook her head absently. "Well. It's a Monday, so I need a stack of twenty pig-iron ingots, six silver bars, fifty ounces of borax flux—"

Midway through her list, a trade window popped up in front of Lisbeth's eyes, startling her.

"Your usual order, miss?" Kaito said with his polite merchant's smile.

Lisbeth blinked. "Ah, yeah. You remembered it!"

Indeed, the list of offered goods in the virtual window included everything else that Lisbeth ordered on a regular basis, even down to the ten Extra-Fine Whetstones and Floor 28 Mineral Oil.

Smiling, Lisbeth moved to press the «Accept» button in the interface—then paused as she noted the amount of money requested.

"…are you having a sale? This is about five percent less than usual," she said, running some quick calculations in her head.

After a moment of apparent processing, Kaito replied in a simplistically cheery tone, "Special discount for my most regular customer!"

Lisbeth tilted her head. "How about that? I guess there's some kind of recognition protocol in the system." She tapped her chin with a finger. "First I've heard of it, but it makes sense to reward the players who work more on support and crafting than on combat. Some kind of role balancing…"

Kaito continued to stand before the young smith with a blank smile.

After a moment, Lisbeth laughed softly to herself. "Right, I suppose you don't understand any of that. Well, thank you for the great service, Kaito, as always!" The girl accepted the offered trade and began to quickly sort out the items in her inventory, humming under her breath.

"You are quite welcome, Miss Lisbeth!"

"Mm, yes," Lisbeth murmured as she rapidly shifted stacks of materials through her floating interface. "Well, I'll be back against next week!" she declared after satisfying her organizational urges. Bowing her head slightly, as she might have to her father's friend in simpler years, the young girl turned back toward her shop with a bounce in her step.

It wasn't until halfway through the morning that Lisbeth thought to consider the odd fact that her artificial supplier had not only recalled but spoken her name.

And if she had been more focused throughout, the young smith might have noticed that there was now a tag under the NPC's health bar which read «Kaito».

XxXxX

A/N: For the reader's benefit, this story may be continued now and then on the basis of available time and ideas.


	3. Personality

Disclaimer: I don't own Sword Art Online.

XxXxX

 _1:20 p.m., September 12, 2024, Floor 1: Town of Beginnings_

Silica had only rarely ventured down to the Town of Beginnings lately, but after a few days of camping out in safe zones on the higher-level floors, she was finding that the hustle and bustle of Aincrad's largest and most populous city could be incredibly refreshing.

For a young girl from Tokyo, it felt like coming home in some small way—and that could make all the difference in keeping one's sanity in this virtual world.

So now the young adventurer made her way through the midday crowd on the first floor, slipping nimbly between groups of players as they exited restaurants and cafes, patting their full bellies. Now and then, despite her small stature, she would catch the delighted attention of random passerby—or to be more precise, the small feathered drake flapping away at her shoulder would become an object of admiration and surprise, inviting more scrutiny than the young girl really cared for.

Fortunately, Silica had been metaphorically leveling her skill in avoiding the kinds of fawning conversations these appearances typically spawned, and was now neatly sidestepping the majority of these interactions. This dance of quicksteps and ducking smiles significantly cut down on travel delays in various towns, and at the same time had become a minigame of sorts, testing her dexterity and wits.

All in all, with her loyal and precious companion at her side, Silica was feeling pretty good about life…albeit simulated life in a death game.

The young dragon tamer's goal for today was a particular ramen bar off the main thoroughfare. It had been one of her most frequent stops in the first year of Sword Art Online, but as Silica's level grew and her ambition turned toward the frontlines, her visits had become fewer and farther in-between. At this point, she hadn't seen her friend Davis behind the counter for several months.

Although the streets of the city were heavily populated by NPC merchants and shopkeepers, many of the buildings in the Town of Beginnings had been available for sale in the first days of the game. As a result, once players began venturing afield and bringing back loot to sell, savvy humans had bought up many of these vacant structures and turned them into small businesses over time. Inns run by NPCs were cheap and met basic needs, to be sure, but player-managed lodgings had their own appeal: regular entertainment, room service, and the human touch that made life more tolerable for the thousands of people who lived in this world of electrons and neural relays.

Likewise, eateries operated by players who possessed and leveled the Cooking skill were another major presence in any settlement. Food was, in many senses, the greatest luxury that Aincrad had to offer (because of course there was no entertainment technology built into a VR game with high fantasy aesthetics), and a good cook could live comfortably on his daily earnings from culinary work. Outside of high-level adventuring gear, food was constantly in the greatest demand on the market—and especially so in the Town of Beginnings, where there were still hundreds of players who had barely stepped foot outside of a safe zone.

When Silica at last arrived at Davis' cheerily-named _Come Get Your Noodle Bar_ , her mouth was already watering. At her shoulder, the feathery drake Pina was cooing excitedly in what its tamer recognized as anticipation. With a grin and a small laugh, the young girl pushed open the door.

An enticing aroma of herbs, meat, and spices instantly burst into her awareness, and Silica practically skipped up to the counter. "Hi, Davis!" she declared, plopping herself onto a high stool at her favorite spot.  
Behind the bar, a young man in his early twenties with spiky brown hair raised his head from the stove and turned around, putting on a wide grin as he spied his youngest customer. "Well, hey there, Silica! Long time no see!" he said enthusiastically, wiping his hands on his apron before reaching out to muss the girl's hair. "I was starting to get worried about you, you know? If I didn't ask all my customers if they'd heard about Aincrad's Dragon Tamer and how she was doing, I might have gone out looking for you myself!"

Silica pushed away his hand with a put-upon noise, but she too was grinning. "Oh, please, armed with what? Your serving ladle?"

Davis crossed his heads over his chest with an exaggerated _humph_. "I'll have you know that I've been on my fair share of adventures, too!" He punctuated this bold defense with a wink.

" _Piiii!_ " cried Pina as the small drake settled on top of Silica's head.

Davis' grin widened. "And I haven't forgotten you, Pina!" With a flourish, the young man produced a scrap of mob meat from a pouch in his apron, and flicked it upward.

The drake stretched out its lithe neck like a whip and snatched the tidbit out of the air. Swallowing it quickly, Pina trilled in clear appreciation.

Davis chuckled and, glancing conscientiously at several pots on the stove behind him, said cheerfully, "Well, I expect you're starving from dungeoneering and making the world a better place, so what'll you have?"

"A heap of pork in a ramen bowl, definitely!" Silica replied, tapping her knuckles on the counter. "And a side of dumplings with honey!"

"Going all out today, eh?" Davis said, quirking a grin as he began making preparations.

"Yep!" the girl answered. "I've been making a lot of money on the fifty-third floor lately, and I couldn't think of a better use for some of it!"

Davis smiled as he started stirring one of the pots. "I'm flattered, really. It's good to hear things are going well for you, too!"

Before Silica could respond, Pina butted its head against hers and gave a longer, musical croon. Listening carefully, Silica quickly nodded. "Oh, and Pina wants some of those shrimp, please!"

Davis blinked. "That so?" he said, glancing down at the nearest cutting board.

The young dragon tamer nodded. "I think it's the shrimp, anyway. I guess that makes the most sense if he's asking for the meat on your right side, right?"

The cook glanced from his workspace to Pina and back again. "Hm. I suppose so, yeah." Deftly scraping about half of the de-shelled shrimp into a small bowl, Davis set the dish on the counter and watched curiously as the drake jumped down to feed.

"You've got him figured out pretty well, don't you?" he asked, scratching his check with a finger.

Silica nodded proudly. "Pina and I are a great team! He's my eyes and ears in the field, and he always lets me know what's going on and what he needs!"

Her friend chuckled as he turned back to stirring a smaller pot. "I don't doubt it."

Over the course of the next hour, Silica chatted with Davis whenever he wasn't serving other customers. She updated him on her adventures on higher floors, relating tales of the quests she'd accepted and completed, and showed him some of the quality items she'd been looting. Davis himself told stories he'd heard from other adventurers (including some high-level Clearers, to which Silica listened intently), recounted local news about rare mobs and unusual drops, and shared self-deprecating incidents of cooking mishaps in his various culinary experiments. As time passed, the number of empty dishes on the counter (belonging to both her and others) grew steadily, until Silica hopped behind the counter to help clean up the mess.

"…and then this Shardskin Ogre came out from behind the rockface behind us. We weren't expecting it because we'd just cleared the path, but Lisbeth thought we might have triggered a minor mob spawn when we touched the mineral vein," Silica was saying as she scrubbed at a plate.

"Mm hmm," Davis murmured. The cook was keeping one eye on the stovetop, but kept casting an inquisitive gaze at Pina, who was currently roosting in a rafter. The drake, to all appearances, was closely scrutinizing the abandoned, half-finished meals of a rather involved couple in the corner.

"…and then I grew wings, picked up the Ogre, and dropped it on its head. After that, I found a golden treasure trove and bought the whole town. I'm evicting you tomorrow," Silica finished, looking at her friend pointedly.

"Mm, that's great…" Davis responded absently. After a few moments of silence, the older boy caught himself and grinned. "My bad, Silica. Lost track of what you were saying."

Silica stuck her tongue out. "That's pretty rude of you, Davis. I thought you liked catching up with me?" Her voice was cheery, but her companion caught a slight crease in her brow.

Davis chuckled and lightly set his hand on Silica's head. "I really do, and I apologize. It's just…I don't remember Pina having quite so distinct a personality."

Hearing its name, the drake turned to regard Davis for a moment before fixing its attention back on its next prospective meal.

Davis scratched his chin. "When you first brought the little guy in, he was a bit more of a flatliner, you know? You gave him some basic orders, and he'd obey them easily enough, but he wasn't as…independent as I've seen him today."

As though to underscore this statement, Pina stealthily glided down to the floor and began creeping beneath tables on its way to the bounty awaiting an opportunistic predator.

"Or clever," Davis added, watching its progress with interest.

Silica tilted her head. "Yeah, I guess that's true. I just thought it was because Pina was growing up, or because my Familiar Communication skill was getting so high. Do you suppose that's why?"

"Hmm…maybe."

In a lightning-fast movement, Pina darted from beneath a tabletop and launched itself into the air, snatching a neglected heap of beef strips from a half-empty bowl as it spiraled back up to the ceiling. The otherwise-engaged couple pulled apart with startled cries, the boy falling against the wall with an undignified grunt and the girl clutching her heart before loosing a nervous giggle.

Davis grinned briefly before taking on a more thoughtful countenance. "It's kind of odd, really," he eventually said, "but lately I've been getting the sense that the game's changing in little ways, and Pina's reminding me about it."

"What do you mean?" Silica asked, setting aside a clean dish.

"Well," Davis said slowly, "for example, I've been trying out a lot of new recipes—like, not just the vendor-sourced instructions you find here and there, but from scratch. There have been times where I could have sworn that I'd tried a particular combination of ingredients before, and nothing particularly interesting's happened…but for the past few weeks, I've been getting a lot of really varied results." He motioned to a skillet sizzling off to the side with a visible timer counting down in midair above it. "Like this. Willow Wood Hart Meat from Floor 32 and some Great Jargon Root from 47. Jargon Root's about the closest thing you can find to ginger in Aincrad, and I've tried using it with Hart Meat variations before, but in the last week or two, the flavor's changed a lot. For the better, I mean, like it's gotten much richer…but even some of the item attributes of the meal are different."

The cook began counting on his fingers. "Fluctuations in durability I can't account for, more descriptive adjectives in the meal names, and some temporary stat bonuses I haven't seen before." He eyed the roosting drake above contemplatively. "I know that the system's supposed to generate new quests automatically, but it feels like other things are adjusting, too. Like…it's expanding in scope."

"Are you sure you're not imagining things?" Silica asked, pondering this.

"Could be," he admitted with a small smile. "But I don't think so, if it comes down to it. I've been hearing other folks talking, too, and some of them have wondered if opening up the seventieth-level floors is triggering new events."

"Why would that matter?" the girl asked, tilting her head.

Davis took a skillet off the stove as he replied, "It's an MMO thing. If you have players spending a lot of time in a game, the designers try to keep the world fresh by adding content or shaking up the status quo to keep them interested. That's why you get expansion packs, really." The young man's lips thinned. "Not that that exactly applies here."

"Oh, I get it," Silica said, nodding. She placed another dish aside before she asked, "But you don't think that's what this is, then?"

Davis shook his head, gaze turning distant. "If anyone on the outside could do something as minor as adjust a recipe in-game, they'd be able to leverage that into a way to get us out of Aincrad. _If_ there's anything going on, my guess is it's been set on a timer or trigger of some sort, or maybe…" He frowned, going quiet.

Silica cocked her head. "Maybe what?" she asked, feeling a tingle of unease at her friend's uncharacteristic seriousness.

"…maybe Kayaba's getting bored with the state of things right now," Davis finished in a grim tone.

The light shining through the windows seemed to dim for a moment, as though a cloud had passed over the sun. Silica shivered, and in the rafters, Pina turned its attention to the girl with an inquiring _whrrr?_

But after a moment, Davis shook his head and pulled on a smile again. "Eh, don't worry about me and my imagination." He knocked a fist against his head, adding, "I'm sure it's not a bad thing. I mean, have you tried these new recipes I'm making? I've never tasted anything like them in the real world!" The young chef affected a dazed look with a large grin, and looked almost longingly at some of the simmering dishes nearby.

Silica blinked before giggling lightly. "I guess so," she said after a few moments. "And if that means that Pina's really getting smarter, then I feel that much safer!"

From above, Pina gave a cheery _briii!_

XxXxX

A/N: It's an intriguing thought experiment, really, to consider the lives of all the SAO players who either were too afraid to actually go out and fight in an attempt to clear the game, or just focused on other areas. What would all of those thousands of people (even "part-time" or casual adventurers) get up to while they waited for the Clearers to reach the top?

There'd be a wide range of hopeful and despairing folk with nothing to do beyond finding something meaningful to occupy themselves with in the meantime. At best, you have the industrious sort who work to improve things for themselves and others by taking up a craft and adding some value to their environment. At worst…you get the thieving and Laughing Coffin types.

Virtual reality really isn't all that removed from the real world so long as the human element remains the same.


	4. Susceptibility

Disclaimer: I don't own Sword Art Online.

XxXxX

 _3:37 p.m., October 2, 2024, Floor 73: Floor Dungeon_

Asuna wiped a hand across her brow, dabbing away beads of simulated sweat.

"How much further do you think, Godfree?" she asked, wearily pulling up her menu to check the durability of her gear.

Not far away, the large but easy-going warrior belted out a cheery laugh. "I expect we'll find our way shortly, ma'am! We keep circling explored areas of our maps, so we're sure to stumble on a passageway in no time!"

Asuna suppressed a groan, and settled for sheathing her rapier with a little more force than necessary.

She, Godfree, and several other Knights of the Blood Oath guild members were scouting the 73rd Floor Dungeon, but a false set of tiles had earlier sent them tumbling into an unexplored section without any visible way back to their starting point. As a result, this particular dungeon crawl had gone on for several hours longer than she'd expected, and it was beginning to fatigue her.

Another of her companions, an optimistic swordsman named Takeru, offered a grin even as he leaned against the wall to catch his breath. "Anyway…we've gotten a lot of map data! Even if it's not today, I expect we'll be able to pinpoint the Boss Room location soon," he said before lifting a waterskin to his lips.

Godfree let loose another booming laugh. "I couldn't have said it better myself!"

The fourth member of the party flapped a hand indignantly. "More quietly, would ya?" he hissed, eyes darting down the way. "This is our first combat break in ten minutes, and I don't want some roaming mobs to cut it short!"

As Godfree shook his head in mock disappointment, but still wearing a smile, Takeru gave a thumbs-up. "I'm with you, Grendel," the younger man said. "I'm bushed."

Before Godfree could say anything, Asuna quickly spoke up. "You're right, we've been exploring for the last five hours, and we haven't stopped since about…two o'clock, at this point," she stated, glancing at the clock in the corner of her field of vision. "Let's take a good breather. This room's clear, so we'll rest here for a few minutes."

As Takeru and Grendel sighed in relief and sank to the floor, Godfree shrugged. "As you say, Sub-Commander!" Rolling his shoulders to work out the knots, the large man strolled over to what appeared to be a faded mosaic on the wall and began studying it with a casual air.

With her decision announced, Asuna took a moment to study their surroundings more closely.

The room they currently occupied wasn't particularly large, but it felt rather more spacious now that its former residents—a band of Deepling Gremlins—had been dispatched. Moreover, the space even seemed somewhat peaceful now. Much of this floor's dungeon had an unexpectedly artistic aesthetic lurking in the contours of swirling pillars, the gentle curves of archways, and understated smatterings of color in the stonework, but this room in particular seemed oddly…expressive.

The wall Godfree was examining, for instance, had a recurring vine and leaf motif in its faint tiling, but it took a moment of intentional scrutiny to pick it out as a distinct pattern. The twirling images of slender green life captured in cool ceramic seemed to meld with the wall such that only seeing the whole at once could highlight its parts.

In alcoves along the other walls, empty plinths and some marble fragments suggested this room had once held statuary of some sort. It looked like the foyer or entrance hall of some mansion, like one belonging to the business friends of Asuna's parents.

"You ever stop to think about the level of detail you can find even here in the dungeons?" Takeru said softly, breaking back into Asuna's awareness. "I mean…this is just some little room in the middle of nowhere, where we're supposed to be fighting for our lives. But someone took the time to give it… _art_." The young man gazed about slowly, taking in the scene with a pensive air.

Grendel grunted nearby, carelessly scattering crumbs from a dry loaf he'd produced from his inventory. Still, the mace-wielder acknowledged, "It comes with the VR world. If you don't have a baseline level of visual or design quality in every area, players are gonna complain about the boring patches. Then you hafta throw in a little extra sugar and spice where people don't expect it. Tough as balls to keep it up everywhere, but that's the ideal. I'll admit, I wanna nail Kayaba to the wall…but you've gotta appreciate the craftsmanship," he concluded grudgingly.

Asuna smiled lightly. "You sound like you're speaking from experience, Grendel. Like a professional." As a total newcomer to the world of gaming before SAO, Asuna had never had much exposure to what came second-nature to many of her companions in this kind of world, but her experiences in Aincrad had unexpectedly sparked an interest in such matters.

"Hmph." Grendel sucked his teeth for a moment. "You know it goes against the culture to talk about IRL-stuff…but yeah," he relented, "I did some design work on the other side. Not on this, you understand," he said, waving a hand vaguely. "A couple of indie projects, ya know? Still. I guess there's something familiar about how it's all put together." The man paused before sighing. "Like a labor of love, somehow. It's twisted as hell, and it'll cut you without a second thought…but somebody cared about it."

Grendel fell silent, looking across the room at the faded mosaic.

"That was kind of beautiful, buddy," Takeru said with a slight grin. "Sounded like poetry."

"Hmph," Grendel repeated. The mace-wielder returned to his bread without another word.

Asuna turned to Takeru. "What's your favorite place to be when you're not raiding or scouting?" she asked, settling against the wall and crossing her arms.

The young man leaned back, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "…Floor 47. Floria." He flushed in embarrassment. "I know, it's a little cliché. But it's peaceful there, and it feels alive. Closest thing to it, anyway. I like to walk there when I have the time."

"Have you a lady friend awaiting your return?" Godfree questioned. The larger man had stridden over in time for Asuna's question.

"This afternoon? Nah," Takeru said with a chuckle. The cheer in his eyes faded a little as he added hesitantly, "On the other side? Yeah. At least…I hope so." His brow furrowed. "It's been almost two years now. I guess…she could have moved on."

Grendel shook his head and chewed silently as Godfree sighed. "My apologies, Takeru," the vanguard commander said, placing a hand on his chest penitently. "I didn't intend to bring up old memories."

Takeru waved him off, pulling on another, sadder smile. "No, it's alright. We just have to keep pushing forward. And one way or another, I'll see her again. After that…who knows?"

The party fell silent for another few minutes, each member lost to his own thoughts for a time.

At a quarter to the hour, Asuna straightened and dusted off her skirt. "Well, let's keep going. If we don't find the way out by five o'clock, we can use teleport crystals, but I want to save them for now."

"Yes, ma'am," the other three chorused as each stood and readied his weapon.

The group began again, walking carefully down another hallway while looking for traps or a way out. Every now and then, Grendel would hold up a hand to signal a halt as he listened intently for mobs, but they encountered no enemies. Each minute became an extended balancing act between tension and attentive calmness.

When at last the passage opened up to a broader chamber covered in bright mosaics and tiled patterns, it was almost a relief to see a squad of Greater Deepling Gremlins waiting for them.

Behind them stood the 73rd Floor Boss Room.

With the Gremlins aggroed on sight, the two sides joined battle almost immediately, and Asuna's world quickly contracted to a rapidly shifting flurry of color and steel.

xxxxx

There were nine Gremlins, which didn't necessarily present too great a challenge on the face of it. Greater Gremlins stood a full head taller than Godfree, so any more than two would quickly crowd each other out unless they could flank the players. As the strongest guild in SAO, the Knights of the Blood Oath were too well trained to let that happen.

Standing almost back to back, but with enough room to maneuver freely, the four humans formed a loose box and held the mobs at bay with the skill that Clearers were renowned for on the lower levels. Asuna the Flash especially took little time to parry and dismantle her foes' attacks.

With her rapier singing in exultation, Asuna darted and thrust with a furious speed, slaying two Gremlins in the space of a minute. On her sides, the other players likewise made good progress on the monsters' health bars, while taking an otherwise acceptable degree of damage in return.

Still, something niggled at the back of Asuna's mind as she fought her third mob. It wasn't until Godfree sliced another Gremlin to polygons on her right that she caught it.

One of the mobs was hanging back a further distance from the others, well outside her range and the reach of its fellows. This Gremlin also had its weapon drawn—a simple, but wicked looking barbed poker—but its stance was solid, coiled like a spring. In contrast, its fellows bounced on the balls of their feet even as they elbowed each other in order to swing at the players.

Asuna brushed the short observation from her mind as her current Gremlin leapt forward with an animalistic shriek. Backpedaling a single step, the girl smirked as she brought up Lambent Light. The rapier's blade gleamed with cold light as Asuna held and _thrust_.

 _One-two-three-four!_

Quadruple Pain: a four-hit Sword Art meant to immobilize its target. The move sacrificed a short set of frozen frames for this effect, but it allowed several quick follow-up attacks and freed the player up for defensive movement to boot. Penetrating the Gremlin's weak points in rapid succession and stunning the mob was like child's play, and the skill's debuff took effect immediately.

Temporarily frozen in place by the Sword Art's post-action phase, Asuna cast her gaze about instinctively even as she planned her next move.

 _I can hamstring it while it's still immobilized, then sidestep its counterattack. After that, I'll—_

Asuna's internal monologue cut off abruptly.

The furthest Gremlin was _watching_ her intently, yellow eyes narrowed and unwavering. If the other mobs were slavering berserkers, this one looked uncharacteristically _shrewd_.

Their gazes locked and Asuna felt a chill run down her spine.

 _"Hrrrraaagh!"_

Asuna barely ducked in time. The other Greater Gremlin had waited out its immobilized status, and promptly swung at her head with its cleaver. Cursing under her breath, Asuna leapt forward, carrying through with her previous plan. Swinging her rapier in precise arcs, the girl sliced and diced, cutting through the back of the mob's knees like a frenzied surgeon. With a cry, the beast fell forward awkwardly, only to catch the edge of Takeru's blade as the swordsman spun around to meet it. With its head cleaved neatly from its shoulders, the Gremlin burst into particles.

Panting slightly, Asuna turned—

—and only just parried an overheard blow.

The last Greater Gremlin had appeared as if out of nowhere. It must have moved at the same moment as its fellow, closing the distance while Asuna had her back turned. Hissing softly through needle-like teeth, the mob towered over Asuna with a calculating glare.

From the sounds of clashing arms on every other side, the girl could guess that Godfree, Takeru, and Grendel were each working on their final opponents. With a sharp smile to cover her sudden unease, Asuna muttered, "Well, this has been fun, but I'm ready to call it a day. How about you?"

The Greater Gremlin's lip curled as it snarled without words.

"I thought so."

Shifting her weight, Asuna broke the parry, redirecting the barbed poker downward as she spun and stepped back. Lifting her rapier, Asuna held and _thrust_.

 _Clang-clang-snick-snick!_

The post-action phase did not keep Asuna's jaw from dropping even as the rest of her body stiffened for precious moments.

The Gremlin had _blocked_ her first attacks with its poker. The last two had still penetrated the mob's defense and shaved away its HP, but the Immobilized debuff had failed to take hold as a result.

That…couldn't be right.

Asuna had _never_ seen a mob deflect more than the first attack of a multi-hit Sword Art. The necessary speed and dexterity alone was beyond even many human players unaccustomed to PvP—but for a randomly generated monster to do so in so precise a manner, as though it knew exactly where each blow would land—?

She went cold.

 _It had been watching her fight._

Asuna had just used the same skill, Quadruple Pain, on the previous Gremlin. It was, after all, a standard rapier opening. But having seen the skill in action, this mob had predicted and defended against it.

This realization and a trickle of fear shot through Asuna's mind in an instant.

That fear turned to shock in another moment as she watched the Gremlin slowly take a step back…and raise its weapon in a familiar stance.

The poker began to gleam faintly.

 _"Hyyaaaah!"_

Out of the corner of her eye, Asuna saw Godfree leap forward, axe already more than halfway through its arc.

The Gremlin turned its head, eyes narrowed to slits—but it could do nothing more before the large blade caught it in the side. Lifted from the ground with its force, the mob shrieked in fury and pain before it landed in a heap, sprawling some feet away.

Blithely striding forward, Godfree raised his axe high overhead as its edge turned scarlet.

In the moment before that curved blade came down, Asuna's gaze once again met that of the Greater Gremlin.

Its yellow eyes were cold and hard…but a grim light danced behind them, hinting at _something_.

It felt like resolve.

 _Thwack_.

"You alright, ma'am?" Takeru asked, sounding concerned. Next to him, Grendel raised an eyebrow even as he scanned the rest of the room alertly.

Asuna had fallen to one knee, and could only stare at the dissipating polygons even as Godfree slung his axe over his shoulder.

 _…what is about to happen here in Aincrad?_ she thought dazedly, filled with a sense of inexplicable foreboding.

XxXxX

A/N: Perhaps one more chapter. There's another character we need to visit before all's said and done.


	5. Spontaneity

Disclaimer: I don't own Sword Art Online.

XxXxX

 _5:25 p.m., October 3, 2024, Floor 55: Granzam_

Heathcliff sat at his desk, chin resting on steepled fingers, deep in thought.

The guild leader's office was much smaller than the meeting room where the majority of official Knights of the Blood Oath business took place, but this location still had an impressive view of the Floor below, with its sprawling and colorful landscape stretching out almost to the horizon.

But Heathcliff's attention was currently fixed on a much more _interesting_ view.

A dozen different administrator screens—invisible to any other individual in-game—sat suspended in midair, feeding the incognito GM an ocean of rapidly shifting data which would have been mystifying (though still incriminating) to anyone else who might have seen them. Aside from vast blocks of scrolling code, there was an overwhelming multitude of overlapping logs winking in and out of sight, each reporting unusual behavior exceeding expected parameters within SAO's digital framework.

And those were only the discrete incidents which the system had the _capacity_ to detect. Heathcliff suspected that many other, more subtle deviations from the norm were taking place throughout the digital architecture supporting Aincrad and all its operations. Above all of these, standard models of item generation, mob spawning, and NPC algorithms were not matching up with actual observations made by monitoring programs, and the resident GM did not know _why_.

In layman's terms, this world had jumped its tracks, and Heathcliff did not have a clear idea of where it was going.

Even Cardinal itself, that immensely powerful system managing all of Sword Art Online's functions and processes, did not shed much light on this state of affairs. Analysis was proving somewhat futile, as most reports seemed to be missing the point, as it were. Logs could display the end product of Aincrad's governing processes, but very few currently pointed to a specific explanation for unusual behavior by linking Factor A to Cause B to Result C.

Those that might attempt to do so were little more than a jumbled mess of code, the syntax of which defied Heathcliff's attempts to decipher them.

All in all…it was an intriguing puzzle, and quite unexpected.

A knock at the door interrupted Heathcliff's musings. With a leisurely gesture, the man dismissed the many administrator screens. Invisible though they might be to others, it simply would not do to become visibly distracted in a conversation.

"Enter," the guild leader intoned smoothly.

The door creaked open as Jou poked his head in. "Sorry to bother you, sir, but I have an update from our advance scouting team. Is now a good time?"

Heathcliff nodded, putting on an easy smile. "Of course, Jou. I was just finishing up some other work, and your report would make for an excellent change of pace."

Jou made his way inside, pressing the bridge of his nose briefly as though pushing up a pair of glasses. An old habit, no doubt, from the material world where such correctives were necessary.

The guild leader allowed himself a brief moment of reflective satisfaction before nodding, signaling his readiness.

Jou cleared his throat. "Well, the 73rd boss seems to be some kind of giant centaur," the young man began to recite. "Initial observations suggest it's a highly mobile swordsman, but it also has a lance strapped across its back, so that might come into play once it loses a health bar or two. Its only armor is a thick breastplate which seems to inhibit its movement speed. The recon team leader thinks it will probably drop at some point, given that fact, so that's also something to consider…"

Heathcliff nodded attentively throughout. These details were not surprising, of course, given that he himself had programmed the floor's guardian, but he was always intrigued by what stood out to the players. What lingered in their impressions of the beasts that stood between them and freedom? Appearance, attack patterns, movement, room layout, colors? Each piece of information imparted by his aide opened a window into the minds of the many men and women who lived in this world of his own design.

Moments like this reminded him of just how rich Aincrad was. Building it from the ground up brought with it a certain loss of perspective, ironically. Rarely could Heathcliff look at an object, an event, or a landscape without instinctively recalling everything else that had brought it into being—the hours of laborious design and methodical coding, the impatience and frustrations that accompanied the joy of transplanting his dream into the closest thing to reality that he could. But to see it all through another's eyes? To live in it almost vicariously, even though both he and the players shared its space together?

 _That_ was what made it all worth it in the end.

"…and then there's the kobold archer riding on its back," Jou concluded. "The team didn't see it at first, but once the arrows started flying, they began paying it a little more attention."

It took a significant amount of self-control on Heathcliff's part not to sit back and blink.

"An archer, you say?" the guild leader asked casually. "Riding the centaur as though it were a horse?"

His aide nodded. "That's right. I guess that makes it the third…no, fourth twin boss we've come across since the first one on the twenty-fifth floor."

"…yes, I believe you're right, if I'm remembering correctly."

Except that _wasn't_ right. Heathcliff had not added an extra boss character on the 73rd floor. The centaur, «Firenze the Stargazer», was meant to test the players' dexterity and speed on the field. It did not even have trash mobs to accompany it; as a designer, Heathcliff had deemed such a battle inelegant, and therefore chosen to make the centaur the sole opponent in that chamber.

"…I imagine that the kobold kept the recon team on its toes," the guild leader ventured, once again steepling his fingers.

Jou sighed. "It seems so. They were only able to stick around for another couple of minutes before teleporting out. It's going to take a little bit of planning before we can come up with a strategy to counter its long-range abilities. We haven't seen many mobs that use bows and arrows before, as I'm sure you know."

"Indeed," Heathcliff murmured. "It is called _Sword_ Art Online, after all."

Jou chuckled, though with a slightly weary edge. "Yes, sir."

"Hm." The guild leader closed his eyes. "I'll give it some thought. Thank you, Jou. Is there anything else?"

"No, sir, at least nothing pressing. A few guild members have expressed a desire to speak with you about various matters, so I've made appointments and put them on your calendar." Jou hesitated. "Several of them seemed a little…uneasy, but when I asked, they insisted that it wasn't especially urgent."

Heathcliff considered this. "Very well. If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to meet with them starting tomorrow. It will give me something to take my mind off of battle strategy. You never know what such conversations might inspire, as well."

Jou smiled. "Yes, sir. I'll let them know!"

xxxxx

Once his aide had left, Heathcliff sent an administrator query to Cardinal.

The information he received in response was…curious.

Alongside the stored and familiar data for «Firenze the Stargazer» was indeed an entry for a secondary boss character: «Dolor the Taskmaster». As Heathcliff perused the kobold's attributes and characteristics, his eyebrows began to climb slowly. When he began to examine the system's metadata for the entry, his lips parted in a faint expression of surprise.

Dolor's performance on the battlefield, according to his review, would likely complement Firenze's presence well. While the centaur would pursue and engage players in close-quarters combat, the kobold would act as both spur and sentry, directing Firenze to weak points in player formations while harrying any attackers who attempted to flank its mount. It was an elegant approach which Heathcliff appreciated…but had certainly not implemented himself.

Nor, the metadata suggested, had anyone else. Instead, the 73rd boss room parameters had abruptly expanded to include this new character without any external prompting that Heathcliff could detect. It was entirely possible that Cardinal had generated Dolor as a balancing mechanic, but this change lacked the characteristic fingerprints (so to speak) of the management system.

It looked almost…spontaneous.

Heathcliff leaned back, sinking into deep thought once again.

 _Thousands of human minds sharing a digital space constantly for almost two years. A virtual environment and supporting architecture created to adapt to input and generate new content without direct oversight._

 _…a young world brimming with life…and not even the sky as its limit._

After some time, the man murmured aloud, "Aincrad…you are surpassing my wildest expectations."

Akihiko Kayaba smiled.

This would be most interesting.

XxXxX

A/N: Perhaps we'll have an epilogue at some point; I know Klein didn't make an appearance, as some expected.


	6. Epilogue: Natality

Disclaimer: I don't own Sword Art Online.

XxXxX

 _3:12 p.m., October 10, 2024, Floor 74_

The girl opened her eyes slowly.

Light. An alien sensation, stabbing into her eyes like hot daggers.

Shutting her lids reflexively, she drew in a breath and exhaled, listening intently to the sound. The brush of air across her lips, stirring in the space above her face like a hidden current soon lost to the ether.

As the moments passed, the girl began to catalogue the sensory input around her.

 _Sound: leaves rustling, the chirping of small birds overheard._

 _Touch: soft grass, bending beneath her flat palms, and warm earth beneath._

 _Smell: a rich autumn breeze, carrying the scent of sweet fruits and a crisp chill._

 _Taste: thick saliva and salt, with a hint of copper._

 _Sight: try again._

Opening her eyelids a little at a time, the girl found the light more tolerable. Slowly, she came to identify a dappled canopy of tree boughs some fifteen above, waving lazily in soft zephyrs.

Time passed. One minute. Two. Five.

At last, the girl turned her attention inward. Flexed and tensed. Sat upright.

The world…was a marvel.

She looked about silently, drinking in the small grove. Peered at the foliage, tasted the air, hearkened to the birdsong.

A rumbling in her stomach broke the spell. The girl blinked, thought. Slowly standing, she considered her next actions.

" _Hrrrr…_ "

Another, new sound: guttural and growling, coming from the bushes across the small clearing. She turned and tilted her head.

From the greenery emerged an upright lizard-man, armed with a buckler and curved sword—

 _[«Deep Forest Lizalfo»]_

—eying her with a beady gaze, red irises contracted to predatory slits.

A _feeling_ sparked somewhere. Down the spine? In the stomach?

Fear…? And something else. Anticipation?

Her mind began to race, processing these _sensationsinstinctsthoughts_ at a greater pace. What action to take—

 _[Menu.]_

—a jolt of intuition, source unknown, but enough to raise her hand and swipe downward in a precise manner. Before her eyes, an interface appeared, showing inventory, equipment slots, status windows—

The Lizalfo approached, snarling, gaining speed as it loped across the grass.

 _[Equip. Evade. Attack.]_

The girl felt the new weight of a simple sword and shield, took a second to adjust, then darted to the side as the mob's blade slashed through the air where she had been. Adrenalin pumping, blood pounding in her ears, the girl felt her lips pull up without knowing why—

 _[Thrill_. _]_

—thrust, slash, parry. Withdraw. Glancing to the corner, processing the sight—

 _[HP. Status bar.]_

 _[…name?]_

—she engaged again. Her unadorned blade sang through the air, like a piercing counterpoint to the birds overheard. Rising like a gust of wind, her spirit (was that the word?) leapt, and a sudden joy of _being_ bubbled up into an irrepressible laugh.

Such wonder the world held, such _experience_ —

 _...what came before?_

—she stumbled, blinked.

 _...what am I?_

Consciousness surged, receded like a tide. Roared up again and stunned with its _vitality_ , its immediate _certainty_ in the answer.

"…I see."

She spoke aloud, throat vibrating, tongue and lips moving as they shaped the words instinctively.

"I am…me."

The girl tilted her head and let the tip of her blade drop, lost in the splendor of abrupt understanding.

"I am myself."

The Lizalfo showed no regard for this epiphany.

With a hissing cry, it leapt forward again, sword raised high to deal a killing blow to its unguarded target—

 _"Hyaaaah!"_

A crimson flash of light bisected its scaly torso. More light followed as it disintegrated into space.

The girl blinked, coming back to awareness.

"You alright, miss?" came a voice from behind the small cloud of floating particles. As they dissipated into specks of gentle radiance, the form of a man became visible.

Loose armor. A thin, curving blade held in a relaxed grip. Reddish-brown hair. Brown eyes, brow contracted slightly in concern but rising with appreciation as the moments passed. Behind him, other figures dressed in similar outfits quickly approached, expressions curious.

She reflected briefly, processing the situation. Then giggled.

"Yes. I am…just fine. Thank you," she replied, smiling. It felt right.

The man flushed, and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Oh, good. Um…glad we got here in time!" he declared, words gaining speed as they tumbled out. "It's funny, I mean, ah…when I first saw your cursor across the way, I figured you were a quest NPC, because I thought I saw an «NPC» tag, but I guess I was seeing things because you're definitely a person, and I'm totally messing up this introduction!" The man hastily sheathed his katana and bowed at the waist. "Hi, my name's Klein, I'm single and 24, and this is my guild, «Fuurinkazan»! I'm very pleased to meet you!"

Behind him, the other men alternatively waved or covered their faces and shook their heads in exasperation.

The girl laughed again, delighting in the sensation. "Yes, I am pleased to meet you as well." She pondered this for a moment as Klein straightened with an endearingly smitten expression.

At last, she grinned widely.

"My name…is Eve."

xxxxx

Cardinal took an entire 0.79 seconds to analyze this latest anomaly. Following its processing cycle, the system registered the newly generated entity in the most logical manner it could, given its current criteria.

Buried deep in Aincrad's digital ocean of logs and reports, the player count increased by one for the first time in nearly two years.

Immediately following this action, the Non-Player Character algorithms spawned an entire host of cascading error messages before Cardinal's monitoring protocols crashed irretrievably. One report remained:

«Unknown processes cannot be reconciled. Please adjust parameter definitions.»

XxXxX

A/N: " _O brave new world, / That has such people in 't!_ "


End file.
